I've Gotta Have You
by MPGirl
Summary: One scenario for how Chuck and Blair could reunite. One-shot. Set post 2.03.


_**I've Gotta Have You**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters.

**This is based on spoilers for episode 3. If you want to avoid spoilers please don't read any further!**

Thanks to Tatiana!!  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_No amount of coffee, no amount of crying  
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine  
No, nothing else will do  
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you._

He ran his hands through her hair, and she went to move her hand down his back. She was trying to intensify the kiss, but nothing seemed to make a difference. She was about as interested in kissing him as she was a cardboard box.

When he brushed her cheek with his hand, she waited for some feeling, anything, but nothing came. She stopped moving and put her arms to her side.

She concentrated on the feel of his lips on hers.

Still nothing.

_What's wrong with me? Just earlier today . . ._

She let the thought trail off as memories flashed through her head: Chuck's hand on hers, the feeling of his fingers grazing her thigh, his mouth leaving soft kisses on her neck.

She had been on fire then, reveling in every caress, hungry for more.

Marcus had interrupted them, and Blair had gone off with him. She was in his arms now, and she couldn't deny that she didn't want him.

His wasn't the touch she needed. He wasn't the boy she loved.

"I can't do this." She broke apart from the kiss. "I'm just not into this . . . or you."

"Not even now that I have an accent?" Marcus joked with a nervous smile.

"The accent made you a tad bit more appealing at first, but at this point, it's just getting on my nerves!"

His expression went blank before he responded, "You certainly aren't one to sugar coat things."

She looked at him with kind eyes and said, "I'm sorry."

It was the most heartfelt thing she had ever said to him.

"This is about him, isn't it?" She simply nodded her head. "I suppose, you can't help who you love."

"Believe me, I've been trying," she drawled.

They sat there for a minute in awkward silence before Marcus made a move to the door and said, "I should be going then. Goodbye, Blair."

"Bye, Marcus."

"You called me by my name." There was surprise in his voice. "You haven't done that since you found out I was a lord. Well, when I wasn't punching your beloved, that is."

"Really?" Her eyes widened at his words. "I didn't even realize."

He was just Marcus now: a boring, relatively good-looking person. He happened to be a lord, but he wasn't her prince charming.

He nodded his head and made his way out the door.

_Besides_, she thought, _what kind of prince charming kisses like a wet fish?_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chuck had just kicked a half-clothed girl out of his limo, on purpose.

He didn't feel bad about it or anything. He'd thrown her some cab money.

_Dressed like that, she'll get a ride, anyway._

He slouched back in his seat.

He had just come to the conclusion, moments before, that he only wanted Blair. No one else mattered, or ever had.

Things were still a mess, though, considering she could be consummating her relationship with 'The Lord' as he sulked.

What kind of man sees his supposed girlfriend getting it on with an ex and then takes her back, anyway?

And she had gone back to him. She could have stayed with Chuck.

Instead, she had pleaded with Marcus to want her, and then Chuck had to watch her kiss the stupid Lord.

Chuck's chest had tightened when he watched them, and then he had stalked off and found the girl he had just discarded.

Tonight he was supposed to be having a one time thing with Blair, to get him back on track, but he had just been lying to himself when he thought that.

Once would never be enough.

He would never stop wanting her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He sat in his room, with a scotch in hand. He cocked his head to see Blair at his door.

He stayed seated where he was and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not really sure," she responded truthfully. She stayed standing about three feet in front of him.

"So you just came because? What about your lord?" Chuck spat. Bitterness filled his otherwise hollow voice. He sipped his scotch as he waited for her answer or a rant. He wasn't sure which she planned on next.

What she asked him threw him for a loop. "Was it really just about sex? Use me once and then throw away?"

He put his scotch on the table next to him and put his hands at his side. He finally met her gaze and answered with a curt, "Of course."

He lied to her face. He wasn't going to let her in on his new revelation. He couldn't give her the power. She would just stomp on him again.

"Oh." She pulled her lips shut tightly, and then smoothed her dress.

His hands had been clenched when he answered. He always did that when something was bothering him. Either it was the truth, but it still hurt him to have to tell it to her, or he was lying. It had meant something.

Her stomach told her to just leave, even if he cared, even if he lied, why should she put herself out there? He was the one who had hurt her in the first place.

She could either leave, without obtaining what she came here for, or she give a little.

She took a deep breath. "You're lying," she accused.

His mouth twisted. "That's your game, remember?" He countered. "Deluding yourself. I'm not the one with the movie of my life."

She kept her head up high and even stepped closer to him. "You clenched your hands. You only do that when something is bothering you, when you're upset. It hurt you to say that, because it wasn't the truth at all. You care, Bass."

She had challenged him. She was forcing him to try and defy her.

"Leave, Blair. Go home to your prince charming."

"Fine. Not that I'm going home to anyone." She kept her voice even. Her heart was beating fast, hoping he wouldn't let her leave.

He didn't try to stop her. Not yet, anyway.

"Don't tell me Marcus grew a pair and dumped you?" He smirked on the outside, but his insides hardened.

If that was why she came here... He wouldn't be her second choice.

His gaze was piercing her now, never letting up.

"If you must know, I dumped him. He wasn't what I needed, after all." She tried to keep annoyance in her voice, but her sincerity seeped through.

Chuck moved to the edge of his seat. She briefly remembered his expression as she danced for him at Victrola. He had scooted forward that night, too.

"What do you need, Waldorf?" Chuck asked softly.

"You," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He stood up, pressed her body to his, and gave her the kiss he'd been wanting to give her since she appeared at his door. He pulled back slightly, and he could still feel her breath on him as he spoke. "You're lucky, Waldorf."

"To be oddly attached to a notorious womanizer?" She quipped.

He smiled down at her. "You're lucky that for me, it's gotta be you."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Blair buried her head into the crook of his neck, and Chuck lowered his hand on her back, pulling her closer. She grinned into his skin while she traced a triangle out of three freckles he had on his chest.

She spent 45 minutes in his arms making different shapes.

It was so senseless, but she wore a smile on her face the entire time.

She couldn't help it. Maybe this wasn't a happy ending. Maybe it was something better.

Chuck kissed her head and then began peppering kisses down her neck. She sighed, then let out a chuckle when he kissed a spot on her neck where he knew she was ticklish.

He loved the sound of her laugh.

He murmured in her ear, "I've gotta have you, Blair."

"That was the worst line I've ever heard, Chuck." Blair smirked and hit him playfully.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. Before she knew it, she was laughing harder then she could ever remember.

The laugh got caught in her throat, but Chuck fixed that problem by quieting her with a kiss.

Yep, this was **definitely** better.

* * *


End file.
